I can feel it, the frustration
Slowly changing colors
Becoming sadness and
Hurt and
A thousand "I-miss-you"s.
Unshed tears of anger become
Well-shed tears of pain
As I cry
Slowly
Silently, so no one hears –
Don't know
What it is I miss.
Is it you?
Or both of them?
Or a life I never had, or don't remember –
One where
Happiness
Is as attainable as it seems, where
It doesn't
Seem to avoid me as if I'm pushing it away.
I miss them – you – love, anything, so
I tried to
Take it out on him
Then to take it out on you, ranting
Asking for
Help, but
Not with what you thought I asked for.
I'm sorry.
I never should have
Thought
You'd care.